


Living in Budapest

by Waldfee



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Religious Conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-01-07 12:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18410744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waldfee/pseuds/Waldfee
Summary: Ragnar meets Athelstan while he is at his lowest and in need of a new home. Athelstan soon has to deal with a lot of issues that Ragnar brings forth.This is pure fluff, and about how well things could turn out if everyone knew a priest like Athelstan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a native speaker, so please don't let some (hopefully) minor mistakes bother you. ;-)

Athelstan quickly passed the noisy, with many tourists filled streets, to get back to the small rectory next to the church where he worked at. Budapest, city of splendour, of bridges, of beauty and riches, but also of poverty and abandoned people, of destruction and illusions, dirt-caked side-alleys and corruption. The city was forever split in two, and not only in name.

“Floki! Be still…” An energetic voice, spoken in fond exasperation, sounded next to him.

Athelstan gazed to the ground beside him while crossing the crowded square. A man, a homeless man, not much older than himself judging by the looks of him, sat there on an old blanket, reaching out with both arms to cuddle his small brown dog close to him. The obvious love he had for this creature was hard to miss. And although the empty, half-broken pot on said blanket indicated his wish to get coins and other offerings, he didn’t seem to mind the many passers-by at all at the moment. Holding the animal in an embrace that would be more fitting for one’s beloved child, the man tenderly gazed at the dog as if it was his only treasure in the world. Maybe it was.

Athelstan smiled, unseen by anybody else, and went away.

\+ + + 

Ragnar had come here after his divorce from Lagertha, who had kept the small house and their children. There simply was no place for him afterwards. His job hadn’t paid him well enough to find a flat worth living in. He had stayed at his brother’s shared flat for some time, but couldn’t make do with the long distance to his working place in the end. He had drank too much for some time, being depressed about the break-up and everything. Finally he had lost his job and hadn’t bothered finding another. Until Rollo had kicked him out.

Still, he was an adventurous man, and he’d never seen much of the world, so he travelled to Hungary’s capitol city, mostly by foot. He hadn’t found another job yet, but on the way here he had at least found Floki, a little sassy crossbreed, which had quickly followed his every step. 

\+ + +

Athelstan returned to the place where he had first seen the homeless man some time later and sought to observe him from a safe distance. He hadn’t been able to forget about him. The man was very handsome in a rugged way, but what marked him more as out-standing was the open, unhindered affection which he showed his dog. 

Just now, the small animal barked some and tried to leave the man’s blanket, and the poor guy seemed to have trouble reining the cute thing in. Still he was loving and patient in his treatment of the dog. 

Athelstan, finally unable to simply stand back any longer, came closer and dropped a few coins into the man’s old pot. The man raised his head to thank him.

But the priest, shy and timid as he was, didn’t dare to meet the man’s eyes. He simply went back to work in his office after having had a quick dinner. And it was simply coincidence when he made plans to insert a few sentences about homeless men and women and the God-given love of animals in his sermon for the upcoming Holy Mass.

\+ + +

Athelstan had trouble concentrating on his work the next day. An elderly married couple from the neighbourhood had paid him a visit to complain to him about the noise level at night in this part of town, caused by drunken tourists and the like, and the many thieves and beggars lounging around. One special homeless man, accompanied by a small unruly dog, came to his mind again. After struggling with himself for a couple of hours, Athelstan at last left the rectory to look for beggars and suspicious people, just for safety reasons of course. Someone had to watch out for the weak and elderly inhabitants of this city.

There he found him again, alone on his blanket in midst passers-by from all over the world, clutching his dog close to him. Everything looked calm and not dangerous at all. 

Then the man raised his head and his blue, oh so blue eyes locked with Athelstan’s. The priest was stunned and intrigued at once. Before he could do something overly rush, he turned backwards and quickly returned to his office. His cheeks heated up in shame upon knowing that he was easily recognizable in his robes. He couldn’t go back there again.

It was raining hard in the following days and Athelstan mostly hid in his office, daily celebrated the Holy Mass in his old Baroque church, said prayers with a few people that consulted him during his visiting hours, listened to rather boring confessions and spent lonely evenings in his own private library. He was okay, content even, and would have been happy, if not for the ache he sometimes felt in his heart that spoke of his longing for a companion. 

He went back to the square on the evening of the second day, and found man and dog nearby, huddled together under a dirty blanket, half hidden under the overhanging roof of a store. Still, both seemed to be partially wet from the consisting rain. The man had closed his eyes to rest.

This time, Athelstan knew he kept some change hidden under his robes. He went closer and dropped it into the homeless man’s pot, hoping to get a chance to return unnoticed. 

But it was not to be. “Thank you, priest” he heard the masculine voice speak and felt a soft, fleeting touch against his sleeve.

On the following evening, man and dog remained absent, and Athelstan was shaken with disappointment. 

\+ + +

Ragnar was drinking his coffee in silence and sharing his roasted sausages with Floki at his unkempt sleeping place under one of Budapest’s many bridges. It was still raining, but the last day had been very good, because the priest had given him a rather large amount of money. He had been able to buy some good food and even new shoes for himself and dog food for Floki. That’s why he had stayed here today, to stay dry and to contemplate his further plans. He couldn’t stay living on the streets forever. He wanted a job. He wanted a life. Maybe with a partner as well.

What made him think of the priest again. He didn’t understand the man’s motivations yet, but nevertheless Ragnar decided that he liked him. He had a kind and innocent face and there was a boyish nature about him. Ragnar hadn’t seen so much innocence in anyone for quite some time. Gyda, his small sweet daughter, would have liked him for sure. And the priest couldn’t be too rich himself. Ragnar decided that he should give it a try and speak to the young man, to see if he would finally come out of his shell.

\+ + + 

Athelstan was nearly overjoyed when he discovered that the homeless man had returned to his usual place on the following day. He and the dog both seemed to be well enough. The man didn’t seem to have recognized him between the other people yet, so now it was as good a time as any.

He went closer and was in the process of dropping some small coins into the pot, when Ragnar’s hand shot upwards and caught Athelstan’s wrist into a gentle hold. “Priest! Why don’t you stay for a few words? Please…”

Athelstan gazed into the man’s beautiful eyes and swallowed heavily. He hadn’t expected that. “Ah, um…”

“Please! You know, I usually don’t bite…” Ragnar’s gaze turned to pleading, and he was very good at that. “I’m Ragnar, by the way.”

The younger man coughed nervously. “I’m Athelstan, I’m the priest of this parish.”

“I had gathered as much” Ragnar explained with twinkling blue eyes, finally released the priest’s wrist out of his grip, and was glad that he still stayed with him.

Athelstan blushed softly and averted his eyes. “I guess it’s obvious.”

Ragnar chuckled softly. “No need to feel embarrassed in front of an unwashed homeless man. And I wanted to thank you again for your generous gift from two days before. You didn’t have to, you know? Most people only give scraps and pieces, if anything at all.”

“Oh, it was not much at all” Athelstan disagreed. “And you also have to share with your dog.”

“With my dog? Oh yes…” Ragnar petted the animal absentmindedly. “See Floki, say Hello to Athelstan, the priest of this parish. Athelstan, this is Floki. Do you wanna touch him? He has no fleas, I’m always making sure of that.”

“I believe you, he’s well kept.” Athelstan smiled and knelt beside Ragnar, then stroked the animal’s soft fur. The dog seemed to enjoy this and only gave a yelp when Ragnar began to scratch it behind its ears. 

Ragnar chuckled. “He’s young and kind of sassy, but he’s still a good boy.”

Athelstan kept on petting Floki, but watched Ragnar at the same time. The man was handsome, but would have been gorgeous in clean clothes and with washed hair and a trimmed beard. He had to ask him for the reason of his homelessness soon.

They chatted a bit more and Athelstan promised to return before he left, which made Ragnar happier than any money that he could have gotten in the same amount of time. He watched Athelstan disappear in midst the crowd of tourists, wishing the younger man had stayed a little longer. The few friendly words had been so good for his poor and lonely soul. But he now knew that the shy priest would return, so he contented himself with petting Floki, wishing it was Athelstan’s soft curly hair instead.

\+ + +

“Hello Ragnar!” Athelstan went towards the other man with a new-found swing to his steps, only barely hidden by his priestly demeanour, and also with a cup of hot beverage in his hands. “I’ve brought you a coffee, I’m sure you’re freezing here.”

“Thank you, Athelstan” Ragnar accepted the cup with open hands and patted the empty space on the blanket beside him, to indicate his wish for Athelstan to sit down as well.

The priest indeed did so and gingerly curled his legs underneath him, mindful of the robe that hindered his movement. In the course of only two weeks they had become somewhat friends, with them chatting every evening for a few minutes at least. Ragnar felt very well with the shy young man, he felt accepted and welcomed with open arms. Meanwhile the weather kept getting colder und more uncomfortable, which meant that fewer tourists arrived in town, which in turn resulted in having less money by the end of each day.

Still, Ragnar saw no reason to worry too much. Athelstan gave him a few coins each day, brought some dog food for Floki or a hot beverage for him. He really wondered how he could pay the young man back and had actually also gone to a few job interviews, but was rebuffed as soon as employers noticed his sorry choice of clothes and his lack of an actual home. But still, there had to be a way out.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ragnar, it’s cold and I’ve been worrying about you. If you only wanted to, you could stay in the shed of the cemetery for a few nights, until the weather turns better again. You can also bring Floki of course, and I will give you a makeshift bed to keep you warm. Anything must be better than sleeping in the open under a bridge.”

Ragnar made a show of frowning, while his eyes began to glow with joy at the same time. “I am supposed to sleep so close to the dead? And my poor Floki is to shit onto the graves? What would your God say to that?”

“God forgives. Christ meant for us to care for the poor” Athelstan answered, a soft tender smile gracing his lips. “But your choice of words is lacking at best, again.”

“It must be my living on the streets that changed my ways and corrupted my choice of words. But, beloved priest, thank you, and I happily accept.” Ragnar took Athelstan’s left hand and cradled it in his bigger one.

The younger man blushed, but overrode his reaction by gesturing towards Ragnar’s few things. “Then let’s gather your stuff and go, before people start gossiping.”

“Oh, if they wanted to gossip, I’m sure they would have started long before today” the older man easily replied with a flirty tone to his voice. Athelstan ducked his head shyly and didn’t reply.

A little time later, Ragnar was already seated at the table in Athelstan’s small kitchen and shared his supper with his new friend. Floki was happily chewing on some leftovers of a half-eaten sausage on the floor nearby. And Athelstan was happy too, Ragnar noticed with keen eyes.  
Usually he was not a person to beat around the bush, but this time it was another thing really. He for sure desired the sweet priest, and also suspected Athelstan to be a little bit in love with him. But he was also indebted to him and couldn’t simply bed the younger man. Not yet, anyway.

Ragnar made sure to grab the dishes and put them into the sink before Athelstan could even think of doing so. “Let me clean these things and cook you some tea, please, if that’s all I can do for you.”

“Tea?” Athelstan smirked merrily. “I had more thought you the type of guy to drink a beer or two.”

“Oh, I am, you’re absolutely right about that. But you don’t keep beer here, do you?”

“You caught me there” the priest admitted with a wide smile on his handsome face.

Ragnar snorted. “That would be the perfect cause for me to find entrance into the church at night, to go looking for the communion wine.”

“The communion wine isn’t kept there, and the church is locked at night” Athelstan replied while clearing away the rests of the dishes on the table.

“Ts, ts…” Ragnar batted the priest’s hands away and softly shooed him to leave the kitchen. “Go and read your bible or something. You need to relax more.” 

 

Later still, the tall blonde was nearly moved to tears when Athelstan tucked him in inside the small shed, had given him an extra blanket, a pillow and an old basket for Floki as well. It was dark outside, but the moon’s bright shine illuminated the inside of the hut with a soft, secretive glow. Before the priest could disappear through the door, Ragnar whispered to him: “Athelstan! Please, come here for a moment.”

“What is it?” The priest huddled closer.

“Thank you, my friend! For everything” Ragnar exclaimed and embraced Athelstan tightly. The taller man’s heart wanted to erupt from barely hidden, brimming emotion. 

Little did he know how the shy priest wept once he was alone in his own bedroom and shed tears for his forbidden longing, the longing to hold Ragnar closer and closer still.

\+ + +

They found into an easy routine after that. Ragnar kept sleeping in the shed, which was situated only twenty metres from the rectory, while still begging for money throughout most of the day. From this money he would buy something for the priest, which often happened to be chocolate or coffee or just some food for the both of them. When he had bought him some flowers once, Athelstan had amusedly admonished him not to waste the little money he had, but the blush on the younger man’s cheeks and his gleaming eyes easily told Ragnar that he had pleased him greatly.

In addition to that, he sought to help Athelstan with little things, like cleaning or doing small repairs in his house. 

At evening he would join Athelstan for dinner and often spend some time with him afterwards, to talk or to watch some television. It was comfortable. Too comfortable. Ragnar found himself leaning more and more into the priest’s smaller stature, while his friend seemed oblivious to it.

Once though, he pushed his luck while they were both sitting on the couch, their thighs nearly touching. “Don’t you want me to massage you, little priest?“

“Massage me? Why would you do that?” Athelstan turned his head to inquire.

Ragnar squirmed a little. “Because I’d like to repay you somehow. And your neck looks stiff, it must be hurting. I know you spend half of your days bent over your many books.”

“You don’t have to repay me in any way. Consider it as a small gift of the Catholic Church. Actually we should spend more time and effort to help those unable to help themselves.”

“But without me and Floki being here, you’d have more money for yourself” Ragnar disagreed.

“But then I would be still all alone here” Athelstan replied and turned his head sideways to look him in the eye. “That wouldn’t be better in any way.”

Ragnar nearly wanted to kiss the priest right then and there, but refrained from doing so. “Still I want to massage you. Please, you deserve it!”

“Alright” Athelstan sighed, finally relenting. “But only for a couple of minutes.”

The taller man smiled and nodded, glad to be allowed to touch his friend. Soon he was kneading Athelstan’s shoulders, putting as much love and tenderness into it as possible. The priest visibly relaxed and somewhat leaned into him. The easy silence was only broken when Floki, maybe out of a spark of jealousy, barked loudly and jumped onto the couch beside the two men, and couldn’t be calmed down until Athelstan put the squirming animal onto his lap to lightly pet it.

Ragnar laughed and peeked over the priest’s shoulder to gaze at his dog. “See? The small trickster can’t accept anyone else getting some love and attention.”

The priest stilled, and Ragnar feared he had already said too much. “Love?” Athelstan questioned him.

“Yeah! Anyone deserves a little friendly love, also sweet priests such as you are one do.”

“But – but, we’re friends…” Athelstan stammered.

“And can you really tell a friendship and love apart? Doesn’t the bible say ‘You should love your neighbour’ and so on? Hmm? What does your God say about that?” Ragnar had still continued kneading Athelstan’s shoulders enthusiastically, but he stopped now. Slowly, he bent forward and embraced the priest from behind.

“Oh! You’re right” Athelstan answered quietly. They stayed like that for a long moment, both men relaxing into the warm hug. 

In the deep of this night, Athelstan left his bedroom and went to pray in front of the altar, down on his knees, to ask God to answer his many questions and to put a stop to his heart-break.

\+ + +

Both men’s lives were changed for the better, but of course things weren’t meant to stay this way. Although the parish was rather small, Athelstan apparently couldn’t organise it completely on his own. At least once per day the old sacristan came to check on things and to take care of the church and of candles having to be lit and the communion to be prepared. A gardener appeared once in a while to take care of the cemetery. People mourned their lost loved ones and tidied up graves on the cemetery, people consulted Athelstan, the young but respected priest, for this or that thing.

They all took note of Ragnar’s presence from time to time, saw an unknown man sneaking into the rectory at unusual times of the day or even saw his lonely pallet inside the shed. It was really no wonder that the sacristan, going by the name of Cuthbert, tried to speak to Athelstan about it, after he had fleetingly seen Ragnar’s tall form disappear and come back a few times.

“Father Athelstan, who is this man that lives here now? You do know of him, don’t you?”

It took a second for Athelstan to regain his calm, but then he managed. “This is Ragnar Lothbrok, a poor man who lost his home and his family. I gave him a shelter here. It is only meant to be for a short amount of time.”

The sacristan swayed his head thoughtfully, while his brows furrowed. “Then I will certainly hope that things will turn out well for him soon. Though I must warn you; in case he is a criminal you would be in great danger.”

Athelstan smiled forgivingly. “I trust him; he for certain is no criminal. He never harmed me or tried to take from this church, although he had the means to do so. He has only ever been a friend to me and a good person in general.”

“I do not aim to insult you in any way, Father Athelstan, but you are still quite young. You may not yet know what some men are capable of. I only wish to tell you to be careful in all things, and with some help from our side, this man could hopefully also find shelter in one of the cities’ shelters.” 

Athelstan noticed that Cuthbert really tried to hide his scepticism and to advise him tactfully. Still, he didn’t like the idea of Ragnar finding shelter somewhere else, and leaving him in the end. But for sure he had to keep up pretence. “I know these shelters are crowded, but I will see what I can do.”

\+ + +

By the end of the week, the secretary of Budapest’s bishop came to see him rather unexpected. Once Athelstan had seated the young man opposite of him inside his office, it became clear to him that Cuthbert had told the bishop about Ragnar.

Before an awkward tension could arise, Athelstan braced himself and asked the man: “Brother Cenwulf, I take it you are here by Bishop Edmund’s orders?”

His visitor nodded calmly. “Yes. Forgive my bluntness, but I was asked to inquire about your well-being, as Father Cuthbert seemed rather agitated. Still I am of the impression that all is well here. I haven’t yet met the homeless man you’re said to be housing, but I would accept your word that Father Cuthbert’s worries are ungrounded.”

“They are totally ungrounded” Athelstan said with deepest conviction. He was relieved and kind of surprised that Cenwulf didn’t try to further investigate into his personal matters.

“I see. Then we can maybe discuss easier matters, such as the preparations for the Christmas festivities…” Athelstan listened only with half an ear, but still registered that Cenwulf eyed him curiously and also watched over his few personal belongings on his desk. There was nothing to see that could have sparked Cenwulf’s interest.

It took half a day for him to understand the cause of this strange behaviour. He had actually known Cenwulf since their shared time in the priest’s seminar, and there had existed rumours then that Cenwulf had had an affair with another seminarian. Now, Cenwulf was apparently willing to cover for him, and he would be expected to do the same for the man. Athelstan tried not to think about it.


	3. Chapter 3

“Ragnar, I actually wanted to ask…” Athelstan’s voice broke off, and the young man averted his gaze to his half-empty plate on the kitchen table.

“Yes, my friend?” Ragnar encouraged; he had of course noticed that the priest seemed to have something on his mind.

“Are you still okay with sleeping in the shed? It’s quickly getting colder now and I don’t want you to freeze.”

Ragnar smiled, touched by the priest’s concern. “I am okay with the temperature and would be still, but I’m not sure how well Floki will handle the cold in the long run.”

“Then I would like to give you the guest room in the rectory. It’s empty anyway. If you don’t mind…” The priest didn’t know where to look at. Ragnar’s comfort and safety were of importance to him, but he was only too aware that this was not his only reason for asking. He needed the blond man close to him like he needed air to breathe or God to listen to his prayers. He needed and wanted all of these.

Athelstan’s uncertain gaze finally met Ragnar’s, and the older man was quick to answer. “That’s a very generous offer, and one I’d happily accept. But won’t you get in trouble for that?”

The young priest shrugged his shoulders defiantly. “For what? For housing a homeless person for a couple of months? The Catholic Church is not so bad, it’s meant to help people in need.”

“Then I accept, and will try to find ways to make amends somehow. Now that I’m not looking so much like a beggar anymore, maybe I’ll even find a job.”

That’s how Ragnar found himself and his dog moving into the rectory.

\+ + +

The guest room was in the ground floor of the rectory, and on one night Ragnar woke from the sound of the front door squeaking, followed by the soft shuffling of footsteps just outside of his room. He quickly rose and opened the door. “Athelstan, is that you?”

“Yes. I’m sorry; it wasn’t my intention to wake you up.” Athelstan’s voice sounded unusually weak and tired; something was off. Ragnar touched the light button on the wall and was shocked to see the priest with red-rimmed eyes, his youthful face still wet. 

“Athelstan! What is it?” Ragnar stepped forward and raised a hand to his friend’s shoulder, as if to offer comfort.

“I – I’m… Don’t mind me; I’m just not feeling so well.” Athelstan, seemingly embarrassed, tried to hide his face from Ragnar.

But the older man was having none of it. “That much I can see. Come, let’s get you to bed again, and then you can tell me what made you so sad.” He put a strong arm around the priest’s shoulders and guided him up the stairway and then into Athelstan’s bedroom. Once there, both men sat down upon the bed, where Ragnar finally embraced the priest fully. “What’s up with you, sweetheart? You can talk to me, you know? About anything, really.”

“I don’t want to burden you” Athelstan murmured into Ragnar’s shoulder, instinctively seeking comfort in the strong man’s body.

“You are and you could never be a burden to me” Ragnar replied while petting Athelstan’s curls. “You should lie down, you’re getting too cold. Have you been outside, Athelstan? I could have accompanied you.” Ragnar carefully shoved Athelstan into a horizontal position, until the young man was fully covered by the blankets.

“Thank you, but I was just praying, Ragnar.”

“Outside?”

“In the church, of course.” Athelstan replied as if it was the most natural thing of the world.

“And why did this make you so sad?”

The younger man sighed tiredly. “Being a priest is hard sometimes, Ragnar.”

“Because you’re forced to stay alone” Ragnar easily answered, his intuition leading him the right way. He petted Athelstan’s curls once more and let soft fingertips wander over the forehead of his lonely friend.

When he gave no answer, Ragnar knew he had been right with his guess. “I’m here, Athelstan. I will not leave you alone.”

“They can’t take you from me…” the priest murmured softly, as if he hadn’t heard Ragnar at all.

“That’s right, they can’t.” Ragnar hoped that his friend would calm down soon, as it was clear that the priest wouldn’t completely open up to him.

“Will you stay, Ragnar? Please! Just this one night…”

Ragnar thought for just one moment, then slid under the covers beside his friend and pulled him to lie in his arms. Athelstan sighed contentedly, snuggling closer. Ragnar tenderly grazed the other man’s forehead with his closed lips. He wished to help the priest, but doubted it would be possible until the younger man could let go of his fears and inner struggles. Still, he had to find a way, because he knew deep in his heart that he didn’t want to live without Athelstan any longer. He wanted him in his bed, and in his heart.

Moments passed, spent in silence, but with their hearts speaking loudly.

That was when the priest stilled again, to whisper softly: “Ragnar, I’m gay.”

Comforting hands rubbed Athelstan’s back. “I know, sweet priest. I know. Sleep now.” 

 

On the next morning, Athelstan felt so well while waking up slowly. He imagined heaven to be a place like this, where one felt safe and sound without having reasons to worry, and being surrounded by loved ones all of the time. He then opened his eyes and found the taller man still dozing beside him. His gaze swept over the closed lids and the full mouth; Ragnar’s chin and shoulders were partly covered by his wild braids. He enjoyed this closeness immensely and turned to recline on his side to face Ragnar fully.   
When he pressed closer, he suddenly came into contact with the other man’s morning erection against his thigh. After his initial shock, he felt his own member fill with arousal. He didn’t know what to do at all. For minutes he stayed there, doubts and shame warring with longing and the sweetest memory of sleeping in the beloved man’s arms. 

But still, he fled the shared bed before Ragnar could stir and wake up.

\+ + +

Ragnar was tired now most of the days, because he tried to watch over Athelstan when he knew the young priest would be out and praying in the church at night, when he should actually have slept. It bothered him to no end. He respected the priest’s faith and devotion to God, he also respected his privacy, but that were about the only reasons why he never tried to actively spy on him and listen to his prayers. It would have been easy to sneak into the church as well, to keep guard.

So instead he would only open a window of his unlit room and listen to the sounds of Budapest in the night, for one hour at least, or even two or longer at times. He would only fall asleep once Athelstan had safely returned to the rectory.

On one of these long nights, Ragnar was suddenly thrown out of his contemplations by soft voices coming from the cemetery, from not too far away. He stilled and listened, and really: they resembled the murmur of men in the deep of the night, of men like him, who were up to no good. It had to be at least two of them.   
Now Ragnar was wide awake. Athelstan had to be in the church still, lost in his prayers, down on his knees or even lying flat on the ground in front of the altar. He would most likely be blind to anything else happening around him. Ragnar rose quickly and peeked through the window’s curtains. Floki stirred, but didn’t wake yet. ‘Sweet young fools, the two of you’ Ragnar thought fondly, meaning both his dog and his priest with it. 

There was nothing suspicious to be seen, but nonetheless he left Floki and the guest room behind and stepped outside.

Ragnar wanted to curse both Athelstan’s God and his gods when he sneaked closer to the church and noticed that the heavy entrance doors stood wide open. Athelstan, being the careful soul that he was, would never leave them in this fashion. What kind of criminals sought to invite that much attention onto their doing? ‘More fools at work’ Ragnar thought to himself. 

Nobody hindered Ragnar from peeking inside the old building. What he had already feared before, he found to be true: Athelstan stood very close to the altar, clutching the precious, golden crucifix to his chest. On both of his sides stood one robber, both of them raw, unkempt men, and were in the process to threaten the younger man aggressively. 

Ragnar grabbed one of the long, really solid candlesticks from the entrance and sneaked closer, keeping himself in the shadows behind the seating at the same time.

The larger one of the two intruders reached out for the silver goblet on the altar and roughly shoved Athelstan against his companion in the following. “Time’s over, now give me that thing, priest.”

Athelstan, although visibly trembling with fear, withstood. “You may take everything else, and I will ask the Lord to forgive you, but the holy crucifix will have to stay in this church, right where it belongs. You don’t need it.”

“That’s a really dumb thing to say” the guy joked, and the other man laughed along. Then some more shoving and pulling occurred and Athelstan was beaten in the ribs and stomach repeatedly, in a matter of only seconds. The crucifix was taken from him and Athelstan fell to the ground, hurting his hip in the process.

Ragnar, who had seen all of this, was furious. There was nothing and no one to stop him now. These broken men stood as no challenge to him, who was young and hot-headed and aimed to protect out of love. He rushed forward and beat the candlestick hard against one of the criminal’s head. The other guy retreated instantly, but Ragnar followed him and still managed to hit his leg, until the man fell and lost both the crucifix and the goblet on the ground. Then he quickly grabbed two clothes from the altar and bound both men with them. Only then did he find time to turn around and notice the priest lowly groaning in pain.

He rushed to Athelstan, who had at least managed to sit up, but was pressing a hand to his stomach. Ragnar knelt down beside him. “Athelstan! Are you badly hurt? Do I have to get you to the hospital?” 

“No, it’s not that bad, they didn’t break my bones. Although I must admit to be in pain” the priest sighed, visibly pale and hurting.

“Now let me see.” Ragnar gently pried Athelstan’s hand away, lifted the other man’s clothes without caring for his mild protest and carefully examined the bruised areas. The priest’s skin was turning blue rapidly, but his ribs and inside organs didn’t seem to be really hurt. Softly, Ragnar lowered Athelstan’s shirt again, but took hold of the priest’s hands and pressed a small kiss to his forehead. “You will heal, but I still want you to see a doctor. And we need to call the police, before these two can free themselves.”

“Okay” Athelstan replied weakly and leaned his head against Ragnar’s shoulder. “Thank you, Ragnar.”

“I should have been here earlier” the taller man protested, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Ragnar?”

“Yes?” 

Now Athelstan’s voice sounded stronger and even showed some of his typical fine humour. “I see you used the altar cloth to bind these men. It’s used on the altar for a reason. It’s not exactly seen as sacred, but – something close to it.”

Ragnar huffed amusedly. “Oh, priest…”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No comment on this chapter yet? What's wrong with it? Honestly asking...

Things changed rapidly after that nightly episode. The priest and Ragnar both were questioned by the police after the two robbers had been arrested, and Ragnar was nearly arrested himself for his assault on the two men, but was released instantly when Athelstan spoke up to prevent that from happening.

Athelstan was on sick-leave for three days after that and Ragnar cared for him as best as possible. On the last day of his leave, he got a phone call from Bishop Edmund in person, who asked the priest to come to his office as soon as possible, as he promised to have some ‘interesting’ news for him. 

Athelstan was very nervous about it, and Ragnar finally had to calm him down. “Why are you so afraid of meeting that old man? You are a good priest, and he needs you. You’re not at fault for this assault on you.”

Athelstan’s brows furrowed and his facial expression was darkening. “Forgive me, but you can’t possibly understand. He is a powerful man. He is also a good bishop, but Church politics can be volatile at times. Basically he is allowed to demand and do anything.”

“So you really don’t trust him.” Ragnar sat down at Athelstan’s bedside uninvited. 

The priest gazed up at his friend thoughtfully. “I don’t fear for my own position so much, but I’m afraid he will force me to throw you out, so you’d have to live on the street again.”

Ragnar put a comforting hand on his priest’s shoulder. “Even if he did so, I would still stand by your side. You must know that.”

Athelstan’s face got calmer and softer again, his blue eyes meeting the clear ones of Ragnar. They were so close now that the priest could nearly feel the taller man’s breath on his skin. “I know. I do trust you.”

“Living on the streets again would not kill me. And you will not lose me. Not in any way” Ragnar emphasized again and embraced the priest, to carefully hold the lighter figure in his strong arms. Athelstan leaned his head against Ragnar’s broad chest and simply enjoyed the closeness. He didn’t dare moving, and he didn’t dare speak, for his voice would break from the emotions that he still tried to keep in check somehow. 

Before they broke apart completely, Ragnar softly, and oh so slowly, kissed Athelstan on the corner of his mouth while regarding him out of knowing eyes. Then they both stilled, as if searching the intimate moment for the possibility to become more. The priest stared at Ragnar’s lips for a long time. If Athelstan had ever doubted Ragnar’s intentions before, and his own as well, now all of these were suddenly out in the open. 

And he felt welcomed and cherished, and surer of himself and his desires than ever before. “Ragnar, I…” He reached for the other man’s hand and enclosed it in his smaller one.

“Yes?” Ragnar encouraged by smiling at the priest, his eyelids fluttering in a way that spoke of his excitement.

“I still need time. And I have to sort that thing with Bishop Edmund out, whatever it is about.”

Ragnar nodded calmly. “Then I will leave you to rest. Sleep well, my friend.” Ragnar placed another gentle kiss on the priest’s forehead and left him after that.

 

This night, Athelstan dreamed very vividly. In his dream, he had another visitor, another guest coming into his rectory. He came in form of a simple man of normal appearance, blond like Ragnar, yet unbeknown to him. But in his dreamlike awareness Athelstan still sensed that there was something different, something off about the man. This man just stood beside him in the kitchen and helped him with the preparations for dinner. Oddly, there was no speaking, but the dreaming priest sensed an easy and loving acceptance from the friendly man, which comforted him immensely. For the first time in many years Athelstan felt like a small child again, giddy with pleasure from being forgiven, accepted and cherished. It was unearthly somehow, and he felt waves of love surrounding him, wanting to fill him to his innermost core.

When Athelstan had woken up, he realized that there had to be a deeper meaning to this dream of his. He probably must have had a vision. That was not a completely new thing to him, but still: he knew it had something to do with his feelings for Ragnar. He wasn’t completely sure about it, but he found a joyful hope implanted in his heart, and no fear to meet Bishop Edmund at all.

\+ + +

Soon enough, Athelstan sat in the Bishop’s office, opposite from the very man he had dreaded at first. Now Bishop Edmund didn’t seem so intimidating at all, although it was easy to see that there was a carefully cultivated intelligence inside his nearly bald head, and great power hidden under his heavy robes. “I’ve heard you’ve had a quite dangerous attack happening to you. I hope you have recovered well by now. Actually I wanted to speak to you about some plans I have, for which I might inquire your assistance. It is meant to make this wonderful city safer, but it is also a way to glorify God and his Holy Church by assisting people in need.”

“How may I be of assistance, Eminence?” Athelstan asked sincerely. He sensed Brother Cenwulf standing close-by. The man still made him slightly nervous, but he tried to not let it show.

“Brother Cenwulf here” with this the Bishop indicated to the other man “spoke of this Ragnar Lothbrok, who lives in your rectory and has protected you from bodily harm and our Church from being stolen of its highly prized and sacred treasures.” 

Now visibly Athelstan blanched, but the Bishop recognized it instantly and shrugged it off. “It is an indiscretion I can easily overlook. Clearly, you have a talent to attract and help people like him. And he again has a talent that might provide us with necessary skills. To make it short, I’ve thought about a project to help these homeless people. There are some empty buildings we might use to open up an asylum for those in need, under the guidance and protection of the Holy Church of course. Mr. Lothbrok could become a contact and security person to you and this project. We still might need the help of others, but it would be a start if I can count you both in. What do you say to that?”

Athelstan had listened to the Bishop’s words with increasing amazement. He hadn’t really expected the older man to think of a project so grand, so graceful, which would really help a lot of people in their time of need. It would provide Ragnar with a job, and they would work together a lot.

The priest had to hold back tears of relief from showing on his face. “Thank you, Eminence. I would be very glad to be of help, and I’m quite certain that Mr. Lothbrok would welcome any opportunity to prove his worth.”

“Will you be able to handle this project along with your usual work at the parish? And you must be aware that Mr. Lothbrok cannot stay in your rectory indefinitely. Once the asylum stands, he could live there, or he can find himself a flat somewhere close.”

Again, a deep blush rose to the priest’s cheeks. “I will be able to handle the added pressure, and it wasn’t my intention to house him indefinitely. I’m aware that the rectory isn’t mine to lend to strangers, I simply wanted to be of help to a person in need.”

Bishop Edmund nodded in a show of understanding. “I forgive you, son. Now that I have your consent, you may go. You’ll be contacted again once we’ve found a suitable location. You are of course invited to provide help with this as well.”

“I will contemplate it as soon as I find the means to do so. Thank you again, Eminence” Athelstan gracefully rose from the opulent chair he had sat on and bent forward to kiss his Bishop’s ring.

“You are quite welcome, my son. Now go in peace.” Bishop Edmund accepted his farewell and waved him out nonchalantly. 

A minute later, Athelstan already stood outside the Bishop’s palace, and a palace it was indeed. He shook his head on his way home, still not quite believing that his life was about to change so soon in such an unexpected matter. Sure, it would put a lot of pressure on him, but this project was also a guarantee to keep Ragnar as close to him as possible. And that was what mattered most to him, not where Ragnar would sleep at night.

Still he didn’t know what to make of the Bishop. He didn’t seem to care too much if Athelstan stayed true to his vows of chastity or not. And there was an eerie discrepancy between his earnest words and the way he lived in his baroque palace, between the promised project and the complicated, pretentious character he knew the Bishop to be. Normally, it was all for show. But Athelstan decided to take his luck for granted, for now.

\+ + +

“I will have a job? A normal job? Is this true?” Ragnar gazed at him out of big, blue eyes.

Athelstan laughed joyfully. “If the Bishop’s words prove to be true, then yes, you’ll have a job. But it seems also to depend on us, if we’ll be able to make this thing happen. It may take a lot of time and effort.”

“I don’t care how long it will take” was Ragnar’s answer, as he strode forward with big steps until he stood directly in front of the smaller priest. “I will have a job, and I will earn money. I will see my children again, and they can visit me. Would you like to meet my children, Athelstan?”

Athelstan was struggling to keep his hold on Ragnar’s forearms, who was squirming in his grip from new-found energy and enthusiasm. “Of course I’d like to meet them. I’d welcome anyone who belongs to you.”

Ragnar beamed at him. “I knew you’d say something like that. You’re a good man, and a very good priest. And my children are really nice and sweet, they will like you, I’m sure of that. They’ll love you actually.” The taller man made a significant break. “But not as much as I love you.”

Athelstan suddenly stood stock-still and tried not to lose his balance while his world turned upside-down again. Wonder and awe began to fill him.

„You saved me, Athelstan. I’m yours. My love, and all that I am, is yours. I would give my soul and much more to make you happy, and to repay you for all the things you’ve done for me.” Ragnar sincerely declared, never losing eye contact with the young priest while doing so.

Athelstan stared, awestruck and at a loss for words, his eyes quickly filling with tears. Then he crushed Ragnar to him, as close as possible. “Oh, Ragnar. I love you too…”

Ragnar happily started to press many tiny kisses to Athelstan’s hair, and then the final moment arrived when their lips were about to meet. This time, the priest hesitated no longer. Shyly, but intently, he brought his lips closer to Ragnar’s. After a second of stopping in-between, in which their skin barely touched, both men were suddenly overcome with the need for each other, and kissed each other gently, but fully. Ragnar was amazed at the soft sensation of Athelstan’s mouth under his, and how readily the young priest opened up under his touch. Soon enough, their tongues touched curiously, to passionately slide against each other in the following.  
This was it, this was the thing that Ragnar had yearned for, he realized in the back of his mind. It wasn’t only about finding a job, it was about a connection to all of life, and to the love he had found when the sweet priest stepped into his life and turned his destiny around.

It didn’t take long for Ragnar to become hard in his pants, and he felt the priest’s answering hardness against his thigh. “Are you really sure about this?”

“Yes!” Yes, Athelstan was at last sure about this, about his love and desire for Ragnar. In the last couple of days, his thinking, and some of his beliefs as well, had changed quite unexpectedly, and he felt the bud of this inner change wanting to bloom into full beauty. Having experienced Ragnar care for him in the most loving, most patient way while he was on sick-leave, having sensed the heaven’s forgiveness despite his desire for another man, finally had made it possible for him to let go of his tormenting fears.  
Now he wanted Ragnar, emotionally and physically, to be wholly his. That he and Ragnar would work on a project together, only cemented his impression that he had been given the blessing to take the beloved man to his bed. 

“Let’s go upstairs then!” Ragnar said with sparkling eyes.

Athelstan didn’t answer with words, but by kissing him again and pulling him along. Once they were in Athelstan’s bedroom, Ragnar for sure wasted no time. He undressed in a rush and helped Athelstan to shed his clothes afterwards.

The priest had taken the time to admire the blond, now naked man. He felt a rush of blood to his lower regions, but was shaken out of his musings when he felt Ragnar’s hands on him once more. They kissed again, wetly, passionately, Ragnar’s naked body nestling against Athelstan’s in the most erotic ways possible. The latter had to take a deep breath when Ragnar finally freed him of his trousers and underwear, kneeing in front of him unashamedly and eyeing Athelstan’s hard cock with unabashed curiosity.  
Ragnar’s fingers gently wandered over the sensitive skin of Athelstan’s thighs and stopped short before reaching his groin. “You’re beautiful, my love. Absolutely beautiful.” The tall man rose smoothly and tapped the priest’s chin with his index finger. “I wish there were words to tell you what this means to me, having you in my arms.” 

Athelstan smiled tenderly, the whole of his grace and goodness colouring his voice with warmth while speaking: “You will find the words in time. I believe this will not be the only opportunity for us to be together. I love you, Ragnar.”

“I love you, sweet priest” Ragnar proudly exclaimed, gathered Athelstan in his arms and manoeuvred their entwined bodies onto the bed.

They landed lying side by side, and Athelstan huddled close to the prominent form next to him. He let his hands touch Ragnar’s broad shoulders, the upper part of his back, his sides. Then his finders met the sparse blond hair on his stomach and chest. At last, he bent his head to kiss Ragnar’s pectoral. “I am so blessed to have found you.”

Ragnar chuckled fondly. “That’s the talk I’d expect from a priest. But now let me show you the finer ways of praying.”

The tall man remained unaffected by Athelstan’s following glare and proceeded by running his hands to the other’s buttocks. Gently and with great care, he teased the tender skin there until Athelstan shuddered. Only then did he allow his grip to get firmer.  
Soon, Athelstan was moaning in his arms, and Ragnar silenced him by capturing his enticing lips again in a desperate kiss. It was still so new a feeling that Ragnar couldn’t stop, couldn’t afford to put more distance between them. The licks and strokes of Athelstan’s tongue in his mouth made him even harder, although he hadn’t thought it possible, and his prick demanded his right by poking rather insistently against the priest’s stomach.

Maybe out of a last bit of insecurity, Athelstan had kept his hands still glued to Ragnar’s upper body, so the taller man made it his task to proceed with their intimate actions. He opened his eyes and slowed their kiss until Athelstan looked at him questioningly, only then he brought one of his hands to the tip of Athelstan’s hard erection.

The priest gasped upon feeling the delicate touch. “Ragnar!” Shockingly blue eyes burned with arousal, seeking hold and affirmation in Ragnar’s crystal clear gaze.

“Yes!” Ragnar gripped Athelstan a little harder and began to explore the beautiful cock in his hand, also cupped the heavy sack underneath with his other hand. Ragnar took his time to fondle Athelstan slowly, thoroughly, the many caresses of his long fingers driving the inexperienced priest mad with lust. Only when Ragnar aligned their cocks to rub against each other, did Athelstan wake out of his reverie to look at their joined abdomens curiously. 

It was surely not lost on Ragnar how much his lover admired the sight of his long, gorgeous erection, seeking friction against Athelstan’s cock. He smiled proudly, while holding back a moan deep in his throat. “If you will allow it, I will make love to you soon and join our bodies as one. I will prepare you and take you, and then I will fuck you into oblivion.”

Athelstan gasped both from shock and arousal, now finally took Ragnar’s erection in hand, and kissed him maddeningly. He knew such a thing to be possible, as he had seen videos of it in his youth, and the participants had seemed to enjoy it. He hadn’t experienced something like this himself, but was willing to try it as long as it was Ragnar he was doing it with. “Surely I would enjoy it” he muttered under his breath, hoping to please his lover with his affirmation.

“I would make sure you’d enjoy it. I would kiss you all over and anywhere, even the smallest toe of your feet, and prepare you so thoroughly until you begin to see the stars” Ragnar explained while pumping Athelstan’s cock “and then I will enter you with my cock and find this sweet spot inside of you and show you the ecstasy that I can bring you. Just because I love you, and you deserve it.”

Athelstan smiled sweetly, touched by Ragnar’s continued love declarations. Why had he taken so long to fully embrace the love he felt for this unique man? Because now it seemed obvious that Ragnar must have been sent as a gift from heaven, to lead him out of his loneliness. “Just make love to me now, and I’ll embrace everything you’ll give me in the future.”

Ragnar beamed at him happily and claimed his lips again in a possessive kiss. Then they rutted against each other wildly, and after a minute or two the taller man gently pushed the priest to lie on his back and covered him with his strong body, only to continue with their love-making in this position. Athelstan felt wonderfully safe and wholly desired under the hot heavy body, and found occupation for his hands by grabbing onto Ragnar’s back and buttocks, feeling the powerful muscles work for their joined pleasure. The friction was exquisite. He let Ragnar devour his mouth and sought to taste his lover’s lips and his quick clever tongue himself to the fullest.

It was not long until the signs of the upcoming orgasm were too hard to ignore, and the ever greater bliss too good to push back. With a deep sigh of lust, Athelstan spilled his seed against Ragnar’s stomach, deeply enjoying the joy he found in being able to do this and in awe over the adoring look Ragnar gave him. Crystal blue eyes then found their way to gaze at Athelstan’s lovely stomach first, now covered in semen, and to the priest’s now slowly softening cock, still so very much arousing to the older man. Ragnar grinned lustfully, quickly sat back on the priest’s thighs, tenderly touched Athelstan’s cock once, then took himself in hand and pumped his own cock furiously. 

Still caught in the afterwaves of his orgasm, Athelstan appreciated the erotic sight of his lover touching himself, and showed it by touching Ragnar’s knees and observing everything he did, the way he fondled the tip of his erection from time to time and how he arched his back, the fashion in which Ragnar mischievously spread his legs further to grant him a better view of himself. Even the few drops of sweat running down his upper body were noticed, for they highlighted the impressive muscles of Ragnar’s chest and stomach.

“Athelstan! Ah…” Ragnar seemed to make a show of sighing and moaning his name, increased the speed with which he pumped his cock, and finally ejaculated onto the priest’s willing body while their gazes met and held. Then Ragnar was on Athelstan again and kissed the hell out of him.

After a while, their frantic kissing slowed down and their lips only touched from time to time, to give the other comfort and affirmation in knowing that he was deeply desired and loved above all else. 

There was no need for words. Athelstan knew that Ragnar now knew that he loved him, and would continue to do so as long as he lived. 

Still he felt the need to express his emotions somehow. “You’re so beautiful, Ragnar.”

The spoken-to smiled lightly, and enveloped Athelstan in his arms. “No, you are beautiful. My sweet priest, finally you’re mine.”

Athelstan closed his eyes in bliss and rested his head against Ragnar’s chest. “I wanted you for so long, and felt drawn to you from the very first moment when I saw you clutching Floki to you. I nearly envied him for getting so much love. Where is this cute dog of yours, anyway?”

Ragnar chuckled. “Probably checking your kitchen for food or hunting mice on the cemetery. I have to care for him soon. We can be lucky to have escaped out of his focus unnoticed for so long.”

Right at this moment, Floki barked from the ground floor. Then noises of a small dog gone wild and a chair falling to the ground could be heard.

Ragnar groaned painfully, but the mischief in his blue eyes told Athelstan that Ragnar didn’t really mind what his dog was up to at the moment. “He’s creating chaos everywhere on his way. But I’ll be able to buy you some new furniture in the near future.”

“I don’t need new furniture, I only need you” Athelstan confessed. And then Ragnar kissed him lovingly and thoroughly, and not for the last time this night by far.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a homeless man on the street who seemed to love his dog dearly. I gave him a few coins, but he gave me so much more. So this oneshot is for him, too.


End file.
